Chloroform and Handcuffs
by Alpha-alien
Summary: /Minutes passed, and while his blood coagulated, he knew he would have to bleed himself dry to remove the tickle. How annoying, this feeling of love. The feeling to be kind and caring to another was so ... strange./


Chloroform & Handcuffs

That funny feeling was back, that _tickle_ in his stomach. He didn't like it, it was abnormal, even for him. He twirled his pocket knife around between his fingers, and chewed on his lower lip. Was this what everyone called _love_? Love?! No, absolutely not! He refused to accept that answer! What if word got out that _he_ of all people fell in love? Like a common man? They'd never take him seriously! He'd be all over the news, the laughing stock of Gotham, and that would not do. No sir!

The tickle fluttered up to his heart. He couldn't take it. He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a dirty gray undershirt. He produced his blade and ran it gently across his bicep. A thin trail of blood formed and slowly dripped down with the help of gravity. It was his every intention to bleed the tickle out of him.

Minutes passed, and while his blood coagulated, he knew he would have to bleed himself dry to remove the tickle. How annoying, this feeling of love. The feeling to be _kind_ and _caring_ to another was so ... strange. Is this what love does to people? Turn them ... _soft_? _Nice_?! No. Not him. Never.

His mind drifted back to last year, his first year in Arkham, and that woman. That damn woman, in that damn asylum, in that damn year. She was smitten with him after the first few months, and six months into the year he had the tickle in his stomach. It would have driven him mad; had he not already been so. He had pushed away the tickle, but whenever that woman came around, it would come back, stronger than ever.

Then, it happened. His moment of stupidity. That woman had helped him escape. They would know it was her, she said so herself. She had used her card key for all the doors, her name would be registered into the security database as who opened the doors and allowed him to escape. She had said they would lock her up, and if she found crazy for helping, she might even have gotten his cell.

It was dark, she had knocked out the guard with a fire extinguisher. Rain pounded down on the duo's flesh, causing cloth to cling and reveal things that one wouldn't want revealed. She had laughed, wiping the rain away from her face. She had told him to run. He had grabbed her wrist, and pulled her with him. The two were at the gate when the alarms sounded; they had climbed over and out when the search lights hit; and they were running down the massive hill, laughing, when the dogs were released.

Now, here he sat, a free man on the run. He pulled on his dull blue shirt, and buttoned up his green vest. He heard the door open as he slipped his purple jacket on.

"Oh, Mister J! What do you think?" he turned around, and saw her. The tickle fluttered madly. She was dressed in red, black and white. Her jester's hat was adorned with two tiny bells and a white veil, her lips painted black, and her left eye colored to look like Pierrot's. Her blue eyes were as stunning as ever, and her blonde hair hung and framed her porcelain face. She smiled, placed her hands behind her back, and gave a small twirl. He couldn't help but notice how high her red mini skirt lifted. She tilted a head to one side. "Well? You like it, Mister J?" He licked his painted lips, and ran a hand through his greasy hair.

"I _do_, like it. It's so .. _you_." his comment made her giggle.

"Oh, Mister J! You're making me blush!" he could see her cheeks becoming red.

"Come, my dear. Let us depart!" he held out his arm, and she quickly raced over, stepping over a dead body. She slid her arm around his, and he thought his heart would pound right out of his chest.

So this is love? He would have to get used to it. He belonged to her; and she belonged to him. To her, he was Mister J; to him, he was his Harlequin.

* * *

If this oneshot goes well, and enough people ask, I'll make a new story about the year in Arkham.

But, you gotta ask.


End file.
